


Found in a Bookshop

by apositi (aeine)



Category: MindCrack RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeine/pseuds/apositi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just the three of them, sitting in a bookshop, feet propped up against the arms of sofas or leaning against a counter next to a steaming pot of coffee. No longer students, just the youngest amongst the youngest of adults who had too much time and too little to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found in a Bookshop

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally posted this fic [here](http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/614824.html), but for archiving purposes moved the fic to AO3 instead.

**I.**

It was the quaintest bookshop Zisteau had ever seen.

The clear glass panes of the battered, turquoise door was bordered with weathered bronze clasps. Further down the walls of the bookshop were more stretches of glass, but they were ever so slightly dusty, much more at home than the glass of the door. The walls were stark white, chipped in places, and sometimes sectioned by red panels.

It looked very out of place, a neat, charming bookshop in the midst of a bustling, noisy city, and thus warranted some form of investigation from the six-foot-three teenager. He entered, and found that the bookshop also offered tea and coffee at a counter far from sight from the windows.

The counter was manned by another boy, taller than Zisteau but only slightly, likely the same age as him. He seemed bored. He looked lanky, a description guaranteed by his height and angular features. Lanky and bored, topped off with bright blue eyes framed by the black glasses that he was wearing.

Zisteau nearly left the shop after the boy looked up and caught him staring.

  
**II.**

He couldn’t resist coming back to the bookshop.

No pair of blue eyes could have stopped him from coming, not when the bookshop was entirely too interesting. There was that scent of old, musty books that prevented his curiosity from dissipating. There was the tiny, nearly undetectable, scent of tea wafting about that shop. There were the clean glass panes that needed to be dusted with frequent visits.

And there were the blue eyes that had looked up, blinked in surprise, and expressed some sort of happiness at finding another soul at the bookshop.

  
**III.**

On the seventh time Zisteau stopped by the bookshop, he met Winnie.

She was just lying down, propped up on the blue throw pillows, her legs dangling off the arms of the sofa. She had a pair of red Converse shoes on, and her feet lazily kicked at air to some indeterminable beat playing from the Walkman she had on.

She was talking to him every once in a while as she flicked through the book she was holding. The Great Gatsby, Zisteau found when he pushed the door open. A clear chime rang through the shop, and both Winnie and him looked up. She pulled down her headphones and sat up with a groan.

She grinned happily. “Wow, some dork actually stopped by. I’m Winnie.”

“Oh,” Zisteau said awkwardly. “I’m, uh, I’m Zisteau.”

He didn’t say anything until a few seconds passed. “Are we having introductions now?” He laughed, and Zisteau thought it was a peculiarly gorgeous sound. “I’m Vechs.”

  
**IV.**

Over the month that he visited, Zisteau found out several things:

1\. Winnie stopped by near daily, except for the month Zisteau had stumbled across the bookshop because she had been in Seattle.

2\. Vechs and Winnie were childhood friends until Vechs moved away to Ohio. Then Vechs moved back to South Carolina, and found employment in the bookshop after he finished college.

3\. Winnie had found the bookshop by accident, running in away from the sudden rain.

4\. Seattle was cold, but Winnie certainly wanted to drag the two to the city for coffee.

5\. Vechs noticed. He most certainly noticed.

  
**V.**

Winnie had stopped Zisteau from entering in one day, just before they could’ve been seen through the clear glass panes of the turquoise door.

“Look,” she sighed. “Are you in love with him?”

Zisteau stared at her, weighing his options. Then again, Winnie never cared much for bullshit. Neither did any of them, really. “You could say that, yeah.”

“Well, ask him out, then.” She prodded his shoulder. “I’m getting sick of the fucking tension that’s been cropping up lately. And when you do get together,” she added, “please don’t make out in the shop. I’d like it to stay smelling like books and not testosterone.”

“Thanks, Win,” he said. He hugged her briefly and kissed the top of her head. “You’re the greatest, you know that? And we’ve yet to take up your offer of Seattle.”

“Ah, well. Someday,” she shrugged, and opened the turquoise door, rattling the bell that gave off the clear chime that told Zisteau that this was home.


End file.
